


A Promise at Solstice

by Alessariel



Series: Promises-verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural)'s Handprint, Disney's Gargoyles, Gargoyles - Freeform, Handprint, Handprint Kink, M/M, Magic, Minor Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Rituals, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Top Dean Winchester, Wing Kink, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-29 12:22:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alessariel/pseuds/Alessariel
Summary: 'Statue NOT for sale!’ And smaller underneath: 'Quit it, Crowley!’Dean had put the not-for-sale sign up a month ago. He’d thought it should be easy enough to understand but now he was starting to wonder if he needed to make a larger one. Possibly one with some profanity on it, to really scare people off. A human-sized statue with wings suddenly appearing on one’s roof apparently attracted a lot of attention, especially one as impressive as Castiel.Yet no matter how many strange people tried to bribe or threaten him, Dean vowed to always protect Cas and never stop searching for a way to bring him back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BinJLG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BinJLG/gifts).



> Written for the Profound Bond Winter Wonderland Exchange. BinJLG, I hope you like your gift! I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to get it done!
> 
> This story would not exist without the dedicated and tireless toil of my alpha/beta Adaille. Not only did they cheerlead me during the entire writing process, they also went above and beyond for the beta. I would list them as co-author if they'd let me—they've certainly put as much work and sweat into this as I have.
> 
> The story is complete. The second chapter will be posted before New Year's Eve.

'Statue NOT for sale!’ And smaller underneath: 'Quit it, Crowley!’

Dean had put the not-for-sale sign up a month ago. He’d thought it should be easy enough to understand but now he was starting to wonder if he needed to make a larger one. Possibly one with some profanity on it, to really scare people off. A human-sized statue with wings suddenly appearing on one’s roof apparently attracted a lot of attention, especially one as impressive as Castiel.

Dean still went out and sat with Cas every sunrise, no matter the weather. Even as the cold got worse and Cas acquired a white sheen of frost, and at one point a small hat of snow, Dean never stopped. Every morning without fail, he clambered out onto his roof and sat down next to the cold stone statue.Usually, he spent a couple of silent minutes with him until the sun finished rising. Sometimes, he held Cas’ cold marble hand. Sometimes, he leant into Cas’ open arms. Sometimes, he told Cas about the day ahead or about what he’d dreamt that night.

It'd taken him a while to adjust. For weeks, Dean would startle awake in the darkness, convinced Cas was an impossible dream. But when he gathered his courage and went out on his slated roof, he found the statue just as he’d last left it. As he'd last left _him_. Always still. Always cold. Always with that expression of desperate longing, turned towards where the sun would appear in the east.

As day passed into day, it became harder and harder to remember the cold stone was warm flesh once, that the marble surface had been soft skin. That the utter stillness had been a living, breathing man, a man with beautiful eyes and an even more beautiful heart. A man with impossible, marvelous wings and an unfathomable secret.

They'd only shared one night, and it hadn't been enough, could never have been enough. Dean would've scoffed if Sam or Charlie had forced him to watch a movie with the same story in it. He would've called it a chick-flick and dismissed it in the most disparaging terms he could come up with, grumbling his way through it, never admitting out loud that he kinda liked these cheesy romantic movies. Kinda wanted to watch them with Cas, if he hadn't turned into a rock before he got the chance.

One night, sundown to sunrise. It seemed way too short to form an attachment this strong. Not to mention the fact that the mysterious man Dean had sort of maybe developed an ill-advised crush on was some sort of mythical being.

Since that sunrise, Dean had done some research into what Cas was. When he’d first found Cas on the roof after their night together, he’d been too shocked to even try to figure any of it out. Too much happened, way too fast. It'd taken Dean days to get his head in the game and start believing something like Cas could exist, stone cold proof aside.

Once he'd finally realized the impossible had become his reality, he’d called Sam to help jog his memory.

***

"Hey Dean!” Sam sounded chipper. Voices were murmuring in the background, so Sam was probably at his college dorm.

"Hey Sammy.”

"Sam, not Sammy!” Dean could hear the petulant whine that accompanied bitchface number 4 'My big brother sucks!', and it lightened his heart a little. At least for a moment.

"Yeah, yeah. So what’s up, little brother?”

"Not so little anymore,” Sam muttered, then sighed and launched into a tale of his Halloween shenanigans. Dean listened patiently, content to let Sam’s chatter distract him for a while, but Sam was way too observant to let it go on for long.

"So what’s up with you, Dean? Had fun with Charlie at that Halloween party?” At the unexpected reminder, Dean’s heart stuttered for a second and he took too long to reply.

"Dean? Is everything… alright?” Sam sounded concerned.

"What? Oh. Yes, 's fine, Sammy. I’m just… the party was great. I had a good time. Charlie said to say hi.”

"Dean. I can tell something’s wrong.” 

Damn that kid. Why couldn't he take after their deadbeat dad who'd never picked up on anything remotely important ever? "Nothing’s wrong, Sam. I’m, uh…. it was fun. Really.”

"Oh my god. You met someone!”

"What??!” Dean squeaked, but he'd deny it to his dying day. "What makes you think—”

"And it’s gotta be a guy! You only get this flustered around cute guys, Dean. So, who is he? Do I know him? Is he a friend of Charlie’s? When do I get to meet him?”

'Sure, Sam, I'll totally introduce you to the statue on my roof,’ Dean thought hysterically. Aloud, he denied everything, in true Winchester fashion. "I uh, I really dunno what you’re talking about, Sammy. There's no guy!” Technically, that was the truth. Whatever Cas was, he surely wasn't an ordinary guy.

"Come on, Dean. You can tell me.” Oh lord, Sam’s voice had gone all careful and soft. Dean knew exactly what was coming. "You know I don’t care about who he is, Dean. Dad was an asshole. Bisexuality is nothing to be ashamed of…”

"His name's Cas, okay?” Dean didn’t know why he even blurted that out, he just knew he had to stop Sam from getting into his serious talk mode.

"Cas, huh? That short for something?” Dean could hear Sam smirking and knew he’d been played.

"Castiel. It’s short for Castiel. And no, you don’t know him, no, he’s not a friend of Charlie’s and no, you’re gonna meet him anytime soon.”

The mention of Charlie made him feel guilty all over again. She'd been pestering him for the past few days. She’d seen Dean leave with Cas and was happy for him at the time, but she didn't take it well when Dean was withdrawn and pensive the next day. She’d offered to get her sword and shovel and he’d told her no, but he still hadn't found a way to explain what happened with Cas. How do you even tell someone 'Yeah, we talked for hours and I think I fell for him and we had awesome sex and then he turned into a statue and now he’s a decoration on my roof.’ It sounded crazy just thinking it.

Sam's voice drew him back to the present. "Aw, Dean. He must be pretty special if he’s left such a lasting impression. Don’t be stupid, just give him a call.” 

Dean had to suppress another self-deprecating laugh as he imagined Cas having a marble cellphone. It wasn’t like the statue even had pants to store one in; the strange thought made it all too real again, and the laugh turned into a half concealed sob. Dean slapped a hand over his mouth, but he could hear Sam’s shocked intake of breath and knew he’d have to act fast to stave off more invasive questions.

"Uh Sam, remember that kid’s show you always used to talk about when you were like six? The one with that statues coming to life. What was that called again?”

"Uh… Gargoyles? Dean, what—”

"Gargoyles! Of course! It was on the tip of my tongue…” Dean couldn’t believe he hadn’t been able to remember the name. "Thanks, Sam, you’ve been a life saver! Ok, I gotta go, talk to you later!”

"Now wait just a second, Dean, you still have to—”

"Bye Sammy!” And Dean hung up on his brother’s spluttering protests.

Right. He had a Disney show to watch.

***

Luckily, the whole thing was on Youtube, and after Dean cried his heart out over Goliath and Elisa's tragic romance, he went to the library and did some more serious research. Unfortunately, they didn’t have much on gargoyle lore. He found a few books on medieval architecture that mentioned them, but nothing about them coming to life. Dean did learn Disney got it all wrong, though. Statues like the ones in the show, statues like Cas, they weren’t really classical gargoyles, but were called 'chimera' or 'grotesques'. But 'gargoyles' sounded better. More…fitting, somehow.

There weren’t any myths or fairy tales about gargoyles, either. Not even Wikipedia was much help, which made him wonder, how did Disney even get the idea? There were a handful of mentions in fantasy books and computer games, most probably spawned by the Disney show and the Hunchback of Notre Dame movie, but no underlying lore that Dean could trace those back to as a source. It seemed as if the idea of gargoyles as beings who turned to stone during the day and who roamed around at night just kind of sprung from the collective imagination of humankind.

And that led him straight into the next riddle. What little he did find linked gargoyles with the sun. If Cas was a gargoyle, then he should've come back to life at sundown. Yet, he hadn’t stirred, not when night fell on that first day of November, nor in the days since. 

Dean poured over his memories of their night, trying to remember every little thing Cas said, but the only hint he could remember was Cas talking about only getting out and about at Halloween. Unless Dean had indeed hallucinated the whole thing and also had conveniently forgotten purchasing and putting up a huge ass statue on his roof, it seemed Cas only came to life once a year, during what the older religions called All Souls Night. 

After all his research and all his deliberation, it didn’t make sense for Dean to keep thinking of Cas as a gargoyle. Maybe he was something entirely different?

Dean was so occupied with his research (and trying to keep a grip on his life and job besides, difficult as it was) that it took him an embarrassingly long time to catch onto something else fishy going on.

***

It started the day after Cas turned to stone. Dean was still pretty out of it then, so when his doorbell rang he opened on auto-pilot. 

Outside the door stood his neighbour from across the road, a weasley man called Fergus Crowley. He asked way too many curious questions about the 'statue’ and tried to buy it from Dean right away. After patiently explaining the statue wasn’t for sale and listening as Crowley upped his offers instead of accepting 'no’ as the final answer, Dean finally shut the door in his face. 

But that was only the start. 

A continuous string of strange people rang Dean's bell and knocked on his door late at night, and all of them were politely—and sometimes not so politely—inquiring about purchasing the statue. Every other day, Crowley made another attempt too, his offers becoming more and more outrageous. He even offered Dean sex, seeming to think it was something very desirable. Dean shuddered whenever he remembered the occasion.

A few times, Dean thought he saw his visitors speaking to someone else in the dark after he'd sent them away. And he began to notice a strange guy hanging around the neighbourhood. The man was short of stature, and though he seemed to try and blend in, his flamboyant character and way of dressing made him stand out like a sore thumb, even when it was dark outside.

Eventually, Dean decided to do something about it.

***

"Hey you! Yeah, you! Don't even try to pretend like you’re not there, I've seen you stare at my house for the past two hours! You'll either tell me what you want or I'm calling the police!"

Dean had finally snapped after seeing the creepy little guy stalk his house again, and stormed over even though it was already dark outside. It was bitterly cold and the sun had gone down three hours ago. The thin crust of snow crunched under his feet as Dean marched right into the small copse of trees opposite his home.

Strangely, the creepy guy didn't seem alarmed or nervous at being caught and yelled at. Instead, he was smirking at Dean, slowly unwrapping a lollipop and sucking on it as if nothing of consequence was happening.

"I was wondering when you'd gather enough courage to come talk to me," the man said, that sassy little smile still on his lips. 

Dean took a closer look and noticed the guy’s strange golden eyes for the first time. He felt a shiver run down his spine. "Look, man, what do you want from me? The statue isn't for sale, no matter how many people you send over to threaten me."

"Ooh, figured that out all on your own, did you? And what do you think is stopping me from following through with my so called threats, Dean Winchester?"

Dean snapped his mouth shut at the man knowing his name. Clearly this was more than the coincidence he'd hoped it was, and Dean suddenly felt like this deceptively small man was a lot more dangerous than he'd thought. The man's devilish smirk broadened as if he could read the realization on Dean's face.

"I'm not selling the statue," Dean said wearily, wishing for the first time he'd stopped to think before storming out of the house and confronting a stranger in the woods at night. He should've gotten some backup, or at least texted Charlie to call the cops if he didn't get back to her in 30 minutes. Dean suddenly wondered if this would end up with him buried somewhere in these very woods and he gulped.

"Ah, but it's not really a statue, is it," the man said and Dean’s heart just about stopped. The guy’s tone implied it wasn’t a question.

"What? Don't be ridiculous. Of course it's just a statue…" but Dean didn't get any further, because the man moved with surprising speed and agility, slamming Dean against a frigid tree trunk and pinning him there using only one arm. Those golden eyes seemed to be glowing now, and Dean suddenly had a very bad feeling.

"Who...who are you?" he gasped against the man's grip. 

The man's eyes narrowed. "I could be your worst nightmare, Dean Winchester, unless you give me what I want. And I want the… 'statue', as you call him…it."

The slip of tongue was what convinced Dean that this guy knew exactly what the statue was. What Cas was.

"Never!" Dean spat. "You'll have to kill me first! I'll never give him up. I'll protect him from the likes of you and Crowley no matter what it costs me!"

The man blinked, the golden glow in his eyes dimming slightly. His grip loosened and Dean used the opportunity to fight back. He slammed his fist into the guy’s stomach—it felt like hitting rock and Dean grunted in pain. The man stumbled back a little in surprise, though Dean's attack didn't seem to have rattled him much. 

"Interesting," Golden Eyes said. "It seems I may have misjudged the situation." 

Dean only eyed him warily, still cradling his hand which felt like it was broken.

"Let's start over. My name's Gabriel." And the man offered his hand.

Dean glared at him, but the guy—Gabriel—didn't retract his hand. Dean finally reached out and slowly shook it, though he was half expecting the peace offering to be a trap of some kind. But then...Gabriel. The name rang a faint bell. Where'd he hear that name before?

Cas, the story he'd told Dean that night...it all slotted into place.

"Gabriel? 'Brother, I love you, but you're a bag of dicks' Gabriel?" Dean asked. 

Gabriel's eyes lit up. "He told you about that? Well. I must say, you're full of surprises, Dean Winchester. Now, why don't you invite me into your cozy little home so we can chat like civilized beings."

Dean narrowed his eyes, wondering what he'd gotten himself into this time, but if Cas knew Gabriel…

"Alright. Come on in then," he said.

***

Gabriel was like a curious cat, snooping around Dean's house and opening cupboards and looking inside them. Dean really didn't like it, but his curiosity had been piqued enough for him to tolerate Gabriel's obnoxious behaviour. For now.

"Alright, you wanted to talk, so talk." Dean crossed his arms, glaring at the back of Gabriel's head as the man rummaged in Dean's closet.

Gabriel emerged from the closet holding a lilac pair of panties with a raised eyebrow. Dean flushed and snatched them from Gabriel's hand, stuffing them in his back pocket before going back to glaring.

Gabriel just chuckled.

"Fine, don't get your panties in a twist …" and he winked. Dean fumed.

"You have about five seconds to start talking before I throw you out, asshole!"

"Ah, but how will you do that, Dean-o?" Gabriel sing-songed. "Okay, okay, stop it with the sexy smolder. Geez, whatever does Cas see in you?"

"So you really are the Gabriel Cas told me about? The weird brother with a penchant for pranks?" Dean unclenched his jaw.

"My, my, little Cassie really has been uncommonly talkative with you. Don't think he's ever opened up this fast with anyone, much less a human." Gabriel perched himself on Dean’s couch, looking relaxed.

Dean registered the use of the word 'human' but let it slide for now. "No offense, but you two really don't look like brothers. Especially without the…" and he gestured at his shoulders, indicating wings.

"Ah yes, don't let the lack of extra appendages fool you, Dean-o. Cassie and I are very much related, though not in the human sense." Gabriel stood and a pair of large golden wings appeared behind him. Dean’s jaw dropped.

The wings looked different and similar to Cas' wings at the same time. Where Cas' wings had been dark, leathery and badass, these wings looked metallic, thin and sharp and almost see through, yet strong and deadly.

The wings snapped and vanished again, with Dean rubbing his eyes.

"Dude!" he said, still gaping at the place where Gabriel's wings had been. 

Gabriel turned, his back now very much wing-free, and walked over to the bookcase, absentmindedly letting his fingers glide over the spines of the books.

Dean shook his head, trying to regain his wits. "Dude, what are you? And if you're like Cas, then how come you're not a statue on a roof somewhere right now?"

"Ah yes. That's a good question, isn't it.“ Gabriel looked over his shoulder at Dean and his smile turned into a complicated mix of sardonic and sad. The tips of his fingers stopped at a particular book and he pulled it out and opened it with the kind of practiced precision that came from long experience.

"It's funny how you find this book even in the homes of the least devout," he murmured, his finger sliding down the page. "Ah. Here we are. 'And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.'"

Gabriel shut the book with a snap that had Dean wincing. He blinked at Gabriel, wondering what he was trying to achieve by quoting the Bible at him.

"Ye olde John of Revelations fame was as cuckoo as they come, really hit those mushrooms a little too hard, but he did get some things right," Gabriel said calmly, putting the Bible back into the bookcase.

"We knew Satan as Lucifer, of course, the lightbringer. And oh, he was magnificent. God was always absent, and Michael and Raphael were power hungry assholes, so Lucy didn't have much of a hard time recruiting us to the cause. Turned out he was an even worse asshole than the other two, but we didn't know that before we got cast out of the heavens.“ 

Gabriel turned away from the bookcase, facing Dean. His expression was stoic but Dean could see some emotion glinting in those strange golden eyes. 

"Have you ever seen an angel fall, Dean? You probably have, though you likely didn't know it at the time. It looks just like one of those falling stars you humans like to wish on. But what's really happening is all our feathers burning off as we drop from the sky like stones. Because that's what we become. Rocks. It's our father's punishment for our crime. Who knew the old man had such a mean sense of humor."

Dean had a hard time wrapping his head around it all, so he latched onto the first thing that made sense. "Are you telling me you—and Cas—are literally demons? Is that why Castiel has those horns?" Disbelief washed over Dean at the notion. How could Cas—sweet, considerate Cas, who was so worried about Dean's wishes and consent—be a demon?

Gabriel scoffed. "Don’t be ridiculous, Dean-o. We've got nothing to do with those twisted souls. No, we're fallen angels, Castiel and I. And Cassie's horns are just a remnant of his true form. Believe me, some of our other fallen brothers look much less human."

That didn't seem much more feasible than demons, but Dean decided to go with it for now. "That doesn’t explain why Cas is immobile on my roof while you’re here, talking to me," he said, narrowing his eyes. Dean still couldn't shake the idea that Gabriel was pulling his leg. Angels? Demons? Lucifer himself? Surely it had to be an elaborate prank.

But Gabriel just smirked again. "That's easy to explain. I used to be subject to the same punishment as dear old Cassie, wasting my life as a miserable ornament on some church—I think that one was Metatron’s idea, personally, guy has a really sucky sense of humor, you know, and he loves to show the devout what happens when you go against our father. So, church rooftops all year round, with the exception of All Souls Night, where we're free to move around and gaze at god's creation for a single night, just so we know exactly how much we've lost. It's pretty creative as punishments go, really. Gets really old after a few millennia.“ 

Apparently Gabriel was aware of how thin Dean's patience was getting, because he shook his head and got back on track.

"Anyways, I managed to do a goddess a favor a while ago and let's just say...she was really extremely grateful.“ Gabriel waggled his eyebrows, while Dean fought the urge to smack his head against a wall. 

Gabriel continued. "Boom, she lightened my sentence. Instead of coming to life once a year, I'm free to roam the world every night and just have to turn to stone during the day. Been doing it for a while, sometimes people notice. I think it sparked some strange stories. Anyways, I also got the power to hide my wings back. She's powerful, Kali is. Not quite powerful enough to completely nix dad's punishment, but she did her best. Damn, what a woman. I really miss her and the things she and her ten arms could do." Gabriel sounded wistful.

Dean stared at Gabriel, speechless. The tale made a strange kind of sense—if you completely disregarded that it sounded like something from Game of Thrones.

"Alright…” he said slowly. "Let’s say I believe this bullshit you’re trying to sell. So what do you want with Cas?”

"Easy. He's my little bro. I've been watching over him for thousands of years, don't plan on stopping now. Cassie was always the best of the bunch of feathered assholes upstairs. Only one of my brethren I actually liked.” Gabriel shrugged. 

Dean's brain was working overtime, yet he couldn't come up with a reply. Gabriel didn't seem to mind filling the silence—but then, who knew the last time he'd gotten to talk about all of this? Or maybe he was just obnoxiously chatty all the time. 

"Normally, he hangs out with me on All Souls Night. I always aim to show him a good time, but usually he just wants to do some weird stuff like watch bees. Bees sleep at night and aren’t even active in winter. Do you know how boring it is to watch an inactive beehive for a full night?“ Gabriel rolled his eyes. Dean had to smile because he could very well imagine Cas getting entranced by a beehive.

"Anyway, I was very surprised when the littlest angel actually agreed to party it up. Really, my invention of Halloween was brilliant, if I say so myself. Allows us to roam more freely for that one night god gave us in his infinite wisdom. So seeing dear Cassie actually having a good time and getting some action for once? Pleasant surprise! But then, bam, when I go to the church where Cas usually hangs out for the year in between, what do I find? Nothing! Total shocker!“ Gabriel was making fun of it, but Dean could see that he’d been truly worried. Call it big brother instinct.

"Took me days to figure out where he’d gone! I still gotta keep a low profile, you know. Thought maybe he got caught on your roof by the sun and wasn’t able to get back to his usual spot in time. I didn't realize you were the one he'd spent the night with, or that he'd actually talked to you a bit. Figured it'd be easiest to buy him back from you, like you might actually want to get rid of the weird statue that showed up in the middle of the night. Guess I was wrong on all accounts.” Gabriel sounded pensive but before Dean could come up with a reply to this, Gabriel switched gears again. 

"So, now that you got the downlow, mind telling me what you were planning to do with him?” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, and Dean had the distinct feeling a wrong answer might still get him in trouble with the self-proclaimed rebel angel.

"I… I guess I want to protect him, just like you,” Dean said slowly, still thinking.

"Why? You only just met Cassie. I mean, even if he's an absolute animal in bed, surely one night isn't enough to spark such devotion." 

"Cas is much more than that!" Dean's answer came automatically, like a shot from a gun. Cas was so much more than just a really good lay. Dean felt something for him way before they landed in bed together. He'd have been content just talking with Cas on the porch, Dean now realized. And he still wanted that. He didn't just miss what Cas could do for him in bed, he missed the man, the spirit, the soul behind those incredible blue eyes. 

The realization shook him. Dean Winchester didn't get attached, especially not this fast. 

"Is that so." Gabriel's voice was soft, and the way he looked at Dean made him think Gabriel could see much more than he meant for him to see. That scared him, too.

"When you found Castiel on your roof that morning, Dean, what was your first thought?" Again, Gabriel's voice was deceptively soft, suggestive even. 

Dean saw the trap, but felt compelled to answer even so. "He left me,” he said, hearing his own voice break over the words. "My first thoughts were that he didn't tell me and that he left me." 

Gabriel's eyes had narrowed again, but Dean plunged on, reckless now.

"But my second thought was that he hadn't left me at all. He did the opposite, actually. I asked him to stay and watch the sunrise with me, you know. And he said he'd always do as I asked. I didn't know at the time what exactly I made him promise, or I wouldn't have said it. But he kept his promise the only way he could. He stayed with me and we did watch the sunrise together, in a way." Dean's breath hitched, the memory of that first morning still too vivid, still painful.

Gabriel was silent, waiting. Dean looked up at him, meeting those golden eyes straight on, daring Gabriel to to doubt his sincerity, mock his feelings.

"And you know what my third thought was? That I'd wait for him. He said he only gets to go out on Halloween, so I realized pretty quick I might have to wait for a long time, but you know what the weird thing is? That doesn't scare me. I'm scared about my feelings in general, and I'm scared because this is all strange and arcane bullshit, but the one thing I'm not scared about is waiting for Cas. So I don’t care if it takes a year or ten. I'll wait for him. And I'll find a way to help him, now that I know being like this isn't something he chose."

Dean stared defiantly at Gabriel, expecting the strange angel or whatever he was to protest or start threatening him again, but instead, a slow, beatific smile spread over Gabriel's face. He was rubbing his hands in a gleeful way that caused dread to trickle down Dean's spine.

"Good, good. That’s what I was hoping to hear, Dean-o. I’ve got good news for you, you see. What would you say if I told you that instead of a year, it could be only a few short weeks until you get to hold dear Cassie in your strong arms again?"

***

"You want me to… what? Winter solstice? Since when do you care about winter solstice, Dean?" Sam sounded confused and Dean couldn't blame him. He was still a bit confused himself.

"Look, you were gonna fly here for Christmas anyways, right? So why not come a few days early? Doesn't make much difference, does it?" 

"I'd miss some lessons, Dean! Of course it makes a difference. You have to give me a better reason than 'Why not?'."

"Okay Sammy, don't get your panties in a twist! Geez!" Dean sighed. It'd probably been too much to hope that his ever curious brother would simply go along with a plan for once without a million questions. Dean would have preferred to explain everything to Sam in person, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen.

"Right so… this is gonna be a lot to take in, but remember that Halloween party you asked me about…?"

***

Charlie was much easier to get on board. One selfie of Dean with Cas-the-statue and she was basically begging Dean to be part of the plan.


	2. Chapter 2

All of it—Gabriel’s meddling, Sam’s reluctant agreement and Charlie’s enthusiastic help—led to Dean, three bowls of incense and a gargoyle, ten minutes before midnight on December the 21th. Winter solstice. On a roof. A slippery, icy, snowy roof. Without clothes.

For some reason, Dean didn't even question how he'd ended up in this moment, at this time. It all seemed kind of inevitable. Like he and Cas had been destined to meet. As if, in another life maybe, they'd gone through so much more than just one night together and ended up in stranger situations than this one. It felt as if they'd formed a bond forged in fire and blood. A bond that felt important. Profound, even.

Sam still seemed like he had questions, though he'd basically badgered Gabriel ever since his arrival two days past, which the angel had acknowledged with amusement. In the end, Sam had reluctantly agreed to do his part, but only because Dean had begged him to. For her part, Charlie was looking intensely focused, her cheeks bright with excitement and cold. She’d been all for the plan and had discussed it intently with Dean, Gabriel and Sam, fascinated with the magical theory behind it. Now that she knew that magic existed and god and angels were real, Dean had a feeling that her little comic book store and larping wouldn’t be quite enough anymore to sate her sense for adventure. 

Sam, Charlie and Gabriel were all stationed around Cas and Dean in a perfect triangle, each with their own bowl of burning incense. At strategic moments, synchronized by Gabriel's lead, they fed ingredients into the bowl. Raven feathers, a rare kind of sandalwood they procured from a new age store and the blood of an angel which Gabriel had donated, though not without some choice cursing.

All three of them were chanting something arcane-sounding in a language Gabriel had called 'Enochian'. Apparently bonding a human soul to a fallen angel took some serious magical mojo. Who'd have guessed.

Whenever Dean thought about the fact that he was about to donate part of his very soul, he got the urge to cackle hysterically. The longer this went on, the more it felt like he was part of some cheesy dime novel. When Gabriel first shared his plan with Dean, Dean had laughed. Then he’d declared Gabriel mad. But in the end, the hope that this bogus ritual might work had won out. Getting Sam on board, however, had been a frickin' pain in the ass. 

Even after Dean managed to convince Sam that this was neither an elaborate prank nor a sign of impending madness (at least he hoped that it wasn’t), Sam was still very much opposed to the plan. Only when Gabriel swore up and down that souls possessed the ability to regrow themselves, and there'd be no long term impact, did Sam finally agree. 

Two months ago, Dean didn't believe souls existed, and being told not only were they real, but they also apparently shared some traits with yeast... it didn't help make things seem less surreal. Still, Gabriel claimed no matter how much of his soul he gave to Cas, the missing part would regrow. No worries.

So why had Gabriel looked so shifty during that part of the plan? Dean still didn't trust the angel completely, but the prospect of getting Cas back and even helping him lift the curse was too enticing to resist. Dean would do anything to help free Cas from his curse.

The Enochian chanting grew louder, more urgent, bringing him back to the present. The flames burned brighter, changing color to a dark blue edged with black as the three ritualists added sandalwood.

Dean shivered. If this shit took much longer, he'd freeze on the spot and then he and Cas would be united as statues for the rest of their days, one stone, the other ice. How romantic. He couldn't help but wonder if him needing to be naked was just Gabriel's sadistic streak.

Sam, Charlie and Gabriel added vials of blood to their sacrificial bowls in sync, with the intent of requesting the favor of three different deities to the ritual. The goddess of magic, the goddess of love (Dean pulled a mental face on that one) and, for good measure, Gabriel's old acquaintance, the goddess of death and destruction but, as Gabriel hastened to elaborate, she also 'did renewal'.

Threefold chanting rose in volume. Dean could only wonder what his neighbours would think if they saw any of this. Thankfully, his closest neighbours were some distance away, and the roof shielded them from view.

In the distance, a clock started to chime. Midnight.

"Dean, now!" Gabriel's voice cut through wind and cold and darkness. At some point during the last bit of chanting, Dean had stopped feeling cold and he wasn't sure if it was a sign of impending terminal hypothermia or a result of the ritual. Hopefully the latter.

The night around them felt vast and more ancient than it had any right to in a Kansas suburb. Old stars wheeled overhead and eldritch eyes were watching from a place between the worlds were mortals could never hope to tread. Dean could feel it.

He didn't hesitate. 

Dean stepped forward until Cas' outstretched hand, forever reaching towards a sunset he never got to see, rested against his bare bicep. 

He recited the Enochian words Gabriel had painstakingly taught him that translated roughly into the following:

"To the one before me I give of myself. To the one bound by stone and darkness I grant the light of my soul and the air I breathe." Dean leant forward until his lips almost brushed against Castiel’s, and let his breath fan across the cold stone in a cloud of white. He took a deep breathe and recited.

"At the threshold between day and night I call thee, Mother of Magic, give us your blessing!" Dean nodded towards Charlie who moved her ritual bowl in a complicated pattern then bowed her head while strange, vivid colors touched by stars flowed from the crown of her head and danced across her hair, obscuring her face. She seemed regal and ancient, wise beyond measure, but also dangerous. Dean shuddered and continued.

"At the threshold between light and darkness I call thee, Regent of Rebirth, lend me your strength!" Gabriel's face seemed transformed for a moment, his features terrible but also beautiful to behold, the shadows of several more appendages moving around him. Dean quickly moved on, not keen on seeing more of Gabriel’s erstwhile lover.

"At the threshold between winter and summer I call thee, Lady of Love, witness my promise!" Sam's whole tall form was overcast by a radiant light as he held up his bowl and seemed to drink directly from the flames. Dean was sick with fear, his blood moving sluggishly. He couldn’t really sense most of his body anymore but he didn't dare stop, not now. 

He felt small beneath this ancient magic and the ageless beings granting their presence, and yet taller than a mountain. Dean’s voice rang strong and true as he spoke the last line.   
"To thee, Castiel, I bind my soul, of free will and with all my heart."

All three ritual bowls flared brightly. Dean’s breath was suddenly sucked from him. His heart beat hard then suddenly stopped and the stone of the hand against his shoulder turned even more freezing, until it was like searing heat instead of cold. Dean screamed at the intense pain that Gabriel, damn him, hadn't warned him about. He felt as if his soul was being drawn out through that point of contact, an exquisite agony. 

For a moment, Dean shared space and time with three unfathomable beings, then a fourth came and enveloped him, shrouded him in dark wings from those burning gazes that no mortal could withstand. One moment Dean felt safe in that embrace, the next they were soaring together and Dean knew this was Castiel, in his true form, a stunning wave of color and light. It was almost as overwhelming as the other three had been, but much gentler. Castiel's light enveloped Dean and he knew he was safe here. 

There was astonishment in that light, gentle gratitude, but also hesitation. Castiel didn't seem to think he should accept Dean's gift, seemed to think that he was unworthy. So Dean braced and offered all of himself to Cas, opening up entirely. A wave of baffled wonder answered him and just when he thought he couldn't bear it anymore, he felt Cas accept the promise, accept the gift, accept _Dean_.

They were one, for a glorious moment of eternity.

Then there was darkness.

***

Dean woke gradually to the sound of furious voices and the sensation of fingers carding gently through his hair, a contradiction that was hard for his poor scrambled brain to parse.

"… if he doesn't wake up soon, I'm gonna take a sledgehammer to your sorry ass at noon, Gabe! You said he'd be fine! You promised me there'd be no lasting damage and no ill side effects! You never mentioned that Dean would pass out for days!"

"Some unforeseen developments are to be expected with highly experimental magic of this magnitude, Sam-a-slam. Also you're welcome to my ass any time, though I'd frankly prefer to participate." Gabriel sounded supremely unconcerned.

Dean didn't think he'd ever heard a human being make a growling sound like the one Sam answered him with.

"Hello Dean. You're finally awake." The voice was dark and gravelly, close to Dean's ear, and Dean would've known it anywhere. His eyes flew open and there he was. Cas. Sitting next to the pillow under Dean’s head, Cas’ fingers were still moving in a soothing rhythm on Dean's scalp while Dean could only stare in wonder. Cas' eyes were just as blue as he remembered. His hair looked soft and tousled and his smile… Dean couldn't help himself. He reached up and touched those chapped lips with the tips of his fingers. He slid his fingers softly across Cas' stubbly check, then into Cas' dark hair. Every part of Cas was warm and soft.

Alive.

Dean barely even noticed the tears pooling in his eyes, but Cas made a distressed sound at seeing them and that was all it took to draw Sam and Gabriel's attention.

Things became loud and hectic for a while.

Sam wasn’t satisfied until he'd personally checked Dean over, still bitching at Gabriel any time he wasn't already busy telling Dean how monumentally stupid he was, or griping to Cas—because of course Dean's brother and lover had somehow bonded while taking care of Dean—then telling Dean how worried he'd been only to harp on him in the next moment again. All the while Gabriel was hovering in the background, making unhelpful comments and basically just fueling the chaos.

"Sammy, stop!" Dean finally couldn't take it anymore. "Look, ´m sorry you were worried, but I'm fine now. I'm fucking grateful for all of your help, but right now I just wanna talk to Cas. Alone. You get me?"

“Ugh fine! It’s not like I thought I might lose you or something. Come on, Gabe!”   
“Sure thing, I’d love nothing more than to come with you if you get what I mean, Sam-a-lam-a-dingdong!” Sam rolled his eyes, wordlessly grabbed Gabriel by the lapel and dragged the obnoxiously grinning angel out of the room.

Dean exhaled in relief when the bickering couple finally left. His eyes returned again and again to Cas' face and the tiny smile on those lips and therefore it took him an embarrassingly long time to figure out something sort of obvious was missing.

"Cas… your wings! Your horns? What happened?" 

Castiel shrugged bashfully, an attractive flush tinting his features. "The promise you offered me was quite noble, Dean. Your gift had some… unforeseen side effects."

"Noble? I just did what Gabriel told me to do."

"Not quite."

"Not quite? Look Cas, I just stood on that roof, buck naked just like Gabriel told me to, I…"

"Ah, I was wondering about that. I'm afraid Gabriel was, as you humans say, 'fucking with you'. Being naked was never a proper requirement for this type of ritual." Castiel sounded truly sorry for his ass of a brother, which only mollified Dean's rage slightly.

"I'm going to kill that bastard." Dean set the rest of his rant aside for now; he had more pressing matters on his mind. There'd be time to bitch at Gabriel later. Or maybe play a prank or two of his own. "Cas, come on. Level with me here. What's going on? What did you mean by 'noble gift' and 'unforeseen side effects'?"

Castiel sighed and reluctantly withdrew the hand that'd still been petting Dean's hair, a loss Dean felt keenly. "This is incredibly shameful for me. I would never have hoped for this to happen or even thought it remotely possible. Even though, when I met you, I immediately knew you were special. Your soul is the brightest, most beautiful soul I've ever seen."

"Wait, you can see my soul? Like, really see it?"

"I can. It’s very bright, and quite stunning. Which makes my crime all the more abhorrent. For now, because of my actions, your soul has taken damage."

Dean's blood ran cold. "Damage? What kind of damage?"

"I am so sorry, Dean. I would never have asked this of you, you must believe me. I am very sure, that Gabriel didn't expect this to happen either."

"Expect what to happen? Will you just stop beating around the bush, Cas!"

"Fine." Castiel took a deep breathe as if he was fortifying himself for a terrible confession. It didn't exactly set Dean's mind at ease.

"The ritual was supposed to transfer a very small piece of your soul to me, no more. Gabriel loves to compare it to a sourdough starter, which I personally find a rather unappealing metaphor, but he's always had a thing for baked goods." 

Dean's face pinched, and Cas hurried to continue. "Instead of that tiny piece, at the climax of the ritual you offered your entire self to me. All of you, and all of your soul. It was incredible… That's unprecedented, Dean. If I'd been in full control of my grace, I would never have allowed this to happen. I am truly sorry for violating you this way. I swear I'll make this up to you no matter how long it takes."

He’d offered himself up to Cas, all of himself? Dean recalled the ritual clearly and yes, he remembered that moment well. Cas had been on the verge of rejecting Dean’s offer, so he’d basically thrown himself at Cas. Dean felt a calmness settle over him at that memory. He’d made that decision. Cas hadn’t taken anything Dean hadn’t been willing to give.   
"So you're saying instead of taking a small part you took... more? All of my soul?"

"Not all of it! I would never, Dean!" Castiel's eyes were wide and earnest and so full of sorrow and regret that Dean’s heart went even more out to him, if that was possible.

"So if you didn't take all of it, will the rest… regrow, like Gabriel said?" Dean felt that calmness spread further through him. It had its roots deep inside, in a part of him that felt both new and old, both alien and familiar at the same time. His shoulder began to throb as he focused on the feeling.

"It will, it'll just take longer." Castiel looked completely devastated, and Dean couldn't stand it. He finally had Cas back, and this wasn't how he wanted their reunion to go. 

"Cas, listen to me." Dean took Cas' hand, drawing those soulful blue eyes to his own. "You didn't take anything from me that I wasn't willing to give. Alright? If there's no lasting damage, then there's no harm done." 

"But Dean…" Castiel seemed determined to argue the point further, to keep blaming himself for something that Dean had done of his own free will, so Dean did the only thing he could think of: He buried his hands in Cas' hair and pulled him down for an upside-down kiss.

For a moment, they were the only thing in existence. Cas made a noise of surprise that quickly changed into a hum as he relaxed into it. Their lips stayed pressed together for a moment, relearning the shape of each other. Cas’ lips were chapped and a bit cold, but they soon warmed against Dean’s as he intensified their kiss. 

The kiss didn’t technically end because even as Dean breathed shallowly, their lips stayed pressed together. It was as if they both needed to savor the intimacy, the feeling of closeness. For Dean it was the warmth, the sheer proof of Cas with him, alive and well after so many weeks. Cas in turn just seemed to be completely entranced with everything about Dean. When Dean finally reluctantly pulled back, he saw Castiel’s nostrils flaring slightly.

"Dude… are you sniffing me?" Dean asked.

Castiel shrugged. "Your scent has changed. You have this lovely note of freshly baked bread now. It's very enticing. Maybe there is something to that sourdough metaphor of Gabriel's."

"Dude, that's so weird!" The absurdity of the situation finally caught up with Dean and startled a laugh out of him. 

After a moment, Cas joined in, and soon they were both gasping from laughter, collapsed on the bed, cheeks pressed together. At some point, Dean had taken Cas's hand and now they both lay there, Cas curled around Dean’s head, both of their hands entwined tightly, an occasional chuckle still escaping.

"For what it's worth, I'd rather have you, soul or not, Cas," Dean said quietly. Cas replied by kissing him again for a long time.

***

The next two days were very busy and sadly no more kissing happened. Dean learned he'd been passed out for almost two days after the winter solstice, so it'd been the 23rd of December when he woke. Charlie had had to leave for work reasons that morning, but apparently she, Sam and Cas had taken turns watching over Dean, and she'd bonded with Cas over it, too. From what Sam said, Cas never left Dean's side for even a second. As much as Sam was still wary towards the two angels, he never doubted Cas' devotion to Dean. Knowing Cas was as attached to him as he was to Cas made something inside Dean uncoil and roll around like a cat in the sun.

Gabriel popped in and out each night, but spent his days as a statue around the house, often strategically positioned and posed in a way that would surprise Sam and any other passersby. Apparently Gabriel had taken a liking to the younger Winchester, or so Cas told Dean, who didn't know how to feel about that at all.

As it turned out, Castiel had gained more from the ritual than Gabriel had ever promised. Not only did he now have the power to hide his wings like Gabriel, but he didn't turn to stone anymore, not even during the days. More of his angelic powers were coming back to him as the power of Dean's soul helped rebuild his angelic grace. Gabriel acted like he was quite envious, muttering about stingy goddesses and how one measly human soul could have so much power, but Cas only smiled and Dean didn’t take him seriously anyways.

Dean regained the strength he’d lost by giving away so much of his soul only slowly, spending much time in bed recuperating, so it took him almost two days to discover something had physically changed about him, too.

***

The house was filled with warmth and laughter for the first time in a long while and Dean was loving it. Charlie had decided to stay for Christmas and it seemed like Gabriel was sticking around like old gum to the bottom of a shoe. Dean was starting to grow somewhat fond of the sarcastic bastard though that didn't extend to the weird little mating dance Gabriel was aiming at Sam.

Since it was before nightfall, Gabriel was still doing his best impression of Michelangelo's David in the backyard (Gabriel had started copying famous statues, even using props sometimes.). Sam and Charlie were out doing some late Christmas shopping for tomorrow's festive dinner, that Dean was very much looking forward to. He’d be having all of his favorite people under one roof, which seemed like a true christmas miracle. Coincidentally this meant, that for the first time in two days, Dean and Cas were alone. 

"What the hell is this?!" Dean's shout brought Cas running to the bathroom.

Dean had thought it the perfect time to get some personal grooming in while Cas made dinner (how Cas had learned to cook during his one-night-a-year stint was anybody's guess). A nice long shower sounded like just the thing to wash away all the lingering tension between him and Cas. Shutting Cas up by kissing him had been very enjoyable, but they both knew there was still unfinished business between them and there hadn't been any time to address it yet since someone always seemed to be around.

Now, hair still damp from the shower, Dean stood staring into the mirror in his bathroom, as Cas charged in.

"Dean, are you alright? I heard shouting… oh."

"Yeah, oh! Care to explain this, Cas?" Dean jabbed a finger at the bright red handprint on his shoulder.

Castiel looked abashed, his eyes flicking up to Dean's naked torso once or twice but otherwise aimed at the floor. "That's… it's one of those unfortunate and unforeseen side effects I was telling you about."

"That's a little more than an 'unfortunate side effect', Cas!" The hand print was located precisely at the place where Cas' stone hand had touched Dean's bare flesh during the ritual.

Cas had the good grace to look properly miserable. "That wasn't supposed to happen. It was an instinctive reaction of my grace to the large influx of power from your soul. I'm very sorry, Dean.“

Dean sighed. When he ran the tips of his fingers over the raised bumpy flesh, Cas winced. There was a tingling feeling like electric aftershocks, a strange sensation.

"Will it fade?“ Dean asked, still staring at himself in the mirror. He supposed it could have been worse.

"It's the place where the power of your soul fed into the power of my grace. It'll only fade if I ever completely lose my grace.“ Castiel's voice was quiet, subdued, and Dean didn't like it. He looked up and met Cas' eyes. Ever since he'd woken up, Cas had been looking at him with a strange mix of sorrow and longing.

Dean thought he'd gotten through to Cas during their last talk, but it still felt like Cas was holding back. While Dean completely understood the current situation taking some time to adjust to, even—or especially—for an angel, it was frustrating to say the least. Dean didn't weather winter solstice on his roof in the nude and give part of his soul away for awkward moments and miscommunication. He knew what he wanted. Hopefully, Cas did too.

"Well, at least it's on my shoulder. Thanks for reaching towards the sun and not Crowley’s mailbox, Cas. That might've gotten awkward.“

Cas’ head swiveled up, startled by the joke. Dean saw the ghost of a smile tick up one corner of his mouth. Cas’ eyes flicked up to Dean’s face and Dean knew Cas had to be thinking about their kiss. Then Cas’ eyes wandered down to Dean’s bare chest, his pupils dilating ever so slightly. The air was suddenly very charged between them. The memory of their one night together was replaying on Dean’s mind, making him lick his lips. Again, Cas’ eyes tracked the movement. Dean returned Cas’ smile, and he allowed his want to turn it seductive. Cas’ eyes widened ever so slightly and Dean knew he’d noticed the change.

The handprint scar unexpectedly started to throb again, as it had sometimes during the last two days. Dean could never predict when it would happen, but he realized it was always when Cas was close by. The scar was almost burning now and Dean winced, drawing Cas’ eyes to it as he stepped closer.

“Is the scar hurting you? May I check on it?” Cas sounded concerned, but his voice also held a husky quality that went straight to Dean’s groin.

“It just itches or throbs sometimes, it’s usually not painful…” 

Cas was approaching Dean like a person would a spooked animal, all fluid movements and slow sweeping gestures. The closer Cas stepped, the more the scar seemed to pulse until Dean had a hard time not fidgeting. Finally they stood face to face, about the same distance Dean had been from Cas-the-statue during the ritual. Carefully, slowly, Cas reached out. Dean could almost feel Cas’ advancing proximity like an electrical charge in the air. 

“Don’t be afraid, Dean. I’ll never hurt you again,” Cas said softly.

“I’m not afraid, Cas. Not anymore.” Dean assured him.

Cas’ fingertips moved gradually closer until Dean had to bite his lip to avoid whining in anticipation. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Cas touched him; Dean sobbed at the intense jolt of pleasure that shot through his entire being as Cas’ fingertips came into contact with his handprint. Dean's knees buckled and Cas moved quick like a cat, catching him. It intensified their contact as Cas’ hand instinctively closed over the handprint scar. It was almost too much for Dean to endure. 

Then Cas’ lips were on Dean’s and it felt like cool water washing away the pain but not the pleasure. They kissed like ocean and storm, a natural meeting of primordial forces. The passion consumed them both until they felt like one could not be without the other. There was a primal need rising in them both, one Dean knew could never be quenched with just one kiss, one night spent together, not even a week or a month. Having Cas for the rest of his life sounded like a good start, though.

“Dean, I need you! Need to feel you!” Cas’ voice was even deeper than usual, rough with want. It speared Dean to the core. Dean was already hard in his pants, a needy groan escaping his throat.

“Yeah Cas, me too, wanna touch you. God I missed you so much, you have no idea…”

Dean tried to tell Cas just how much he’d missed him through heated kisses and urgent touches. Cas had him pressed against the sink, kissing Dean like he wanted to drown in his waves. At some point, Cas’ hands had grabbed hold of Dean’s ass and they were slowly and desperately grinding against each other, trying to get closer, trying to feel the other as much as possible.

Cas hoisted Dean up effortlessly. Dean all but swooned at the show of strength as Cas deposited him onto the edge of the sink and stepped between Dean’s legs. Cas’ tongue invaded Dean’s mouth and the kiss turned dirty and possessive. Cas was all but stealing Dean’s breath, and Dean grew lightheaded before he realized Cas simply didn’t need to breathe, not as much as Dean, maybe not at all. It was a heady reminded of how otherworldly Cas really was, and it turned Dean on even more.

“Hah, Ha-Holy shit Cas, gotta breathe for a moment, sorry!” Dean pushed Cas back and panted harshly, then dove in again with renewed vigour. Cas was crowding in even closer, bending Dean back over the sink with no regards to their surroundings and Dean was more than happy to let him. Items standing on the sink scattered and fell and a few bottles broke, but Dean couldn’t care less.

“Cas, bedroom, now!” he managed to grunt out between heated kisses and Cas obliged, simply picking Dean up and carrying him just like he had on that first night, Dean’s hands roaming greedily over Cas’ warm skin the whole way. Dean knew he’d never tire of this.

***

They barely made it to the master bedroom without any more accidents. Every few steps, they bumped into a wall and made out like teenagers, hand roaming feverishly. Dean still had trouble separating his lips from Cas' long enough to keep breathing. Finally they reached the bedroom and Cas dropped Dean onto the mattress, wasting no time to crawl between his legs.

"Dean, please, I need… can I touch you?“ Cas sounded wrecked with want. His cheeks were flushed and he was looking at Dean like a starving man at a fresh loaf of bread.

"Babe, consider this your blanket permission. You can always touch me, anywhere you want, unless it might scar someone permanently.“ Dean was completely and entirely enamored with his lover who was so demanding one moment and so shy and considerate the next.

Cas snorted, and the double meaning of what Dean had just said sank in. They both laughed breathlessly before they kissed again. The tension in the room ratcheted impossibly higher. Castiel reverently reached out and deliberately brushed his hand against the raised scar on Dean's shoulder, watching Dean’s reaction with half-lidded eyes. They both gasped in unison. 

"Holy shit, Cas… do that again!“ Dean groaned and Cas fit his hand over the handprint with a smirk. He seemed fascinated with this visible reminder of Dean’s gift, and Dean was completely 100% on-board with exploring the strange effects of this mark of their bond further. Every time Castiel touched him there, it felt better than direct stimulation to his prostate and penis combined. From all the things Dean thought the ritual would cause, giving him an instant orgasm button really wasn’t one he’d expected.

“You like that? Like my mark on you?” Castiel’s voice was deep with desire and rough with possessiveness. He stroked the scar a couple of times for good measure. “Tell me, Dean. Does this feel as good for you as it feels for me? I can sense every touch it in my grace, my entire being, you’re everywhere inside of me, Dean.” 

The enticing thought of being inside of Cas made Dean lick his lips in anticipation. “Yesssss… I like it, you know I do,” he moaned. “Fuck Cas, the things you do to me. I’ve never felt like this before, oh fuck!” 

The maddening touches sent jolts of unadulterated pleasure through Dean's entire core, making his hips rise in search of friction, and Cas used this new knowledge ruthlessly. He pushed Dean down onto the bed and was looming over him the next moment, all sexy smolder and eyes dark with desire. Cas' thick thigh landed between Dean's legs and they both groaned when Dean's hard cock rubbed against it with the most delicious friction.

"Fuck, Cas, need you naked, right now!“ Dean gasped. 

Castiel yanked off the shirt he'd borrowed from Dean in response (and fuck, seeing Cas in his old Metallica tee did funny things to Dean's groin _and_ heart but it was nothing like having him shirtless again).

Cas’ chest was just as gorgeous and chiselled as Dean remembered. On their first night he’d likened Cas to a work of art by some master stonemason and it still applied. Cas’ eyes glowed blue in the twilight of the bedroom. But now Dean knew that those spectacular eyes weren’t the result of some novelty contact lenses, but of Cas’ grace manifesting. What seemed inhuman at first glance Dean had grown to accept as just exactly right for Cas. Dean’s lover was special and Dean was more than willing to accept him with everything that made him unique.

There was so much devotion in those blue eyes, Dean couldn't help but squirm beneath it. Cas’ hands were splayed over Dean’s chest, admiring him with every caress, soothing his discomfort at being almost worshipped. Cs smoothed his fingers over Dean’s pecs and abs, then stroked down his arms, taking Dean’s hands into his own.

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas asked huskily, placing butterfly kisses on the tips of Dean’s fingers. It was a tender moment and yet it did nothing to lessen Dean’s need or arousal. With Cas, everything was exciting. The technicalities didn’t matter. Dean had loved the feeling of Cas filling him, fucking him so perfectly last time, but he’d equally love to be inside Cas. There was no wrong answer here. All he ever wanted was right here and therefore, the answer was easy for Dean.

“You, Cas. I want you. In any way, shape or form I can get you. Just… promise me you’ll still be here after sunrise tomorrow. That you won’t ever leave me again.” Dean felt a lump in his throat at the mere thought of waking up alone once more.

“I told you that last time I’ll always do as you wish, Dean. I meant it. I’ll never leave you again, I promise.” Cas sounded so sincere, so earnest that Dean had no choice but to draw him down for another kiss. 

Their lovemaking slowed down a bit as the urgency faded into the background, giving way to a deeper intimacy. They moved against each other, not to get off but just to feel each other. Like the wind fanning the waves, their movements ebbed and flowed and finally surged again. They didn’t need more words, not right now, not when they fit together so perfectly. 

Cas removed Dean’s pants, stroking every inch of revealed skin lovingly. Dean in turn kissed his nose and his eyelids, peppered kissed down his jaw and over Cas’ collarbone. Cas returned to his handprint on Dean’s shoulder again and again, driving Dean mad with want. Dean finally flipped them over, thrilled when Cas let him, tore Cas pants off and vigorously attacked Cas’ neck with teeth and tongue, needing to mark his lover in return.

Cas hissed and shuddered, groaning in pleasure and Dean didn’t stop until there was a large dark spot adorning Cas’ neck, one that would be impossible to miss come morning. He stared in satisfaction at his work until Cas drew him back down for an open mouthed filthy kiss, thrusting his tongue into Dean’s mouth until they both moaned with it. Dean’s hands travelled down and he took both of their cocks in hand, the friction providing a little bit of relief on his own aching length.

“Aaah, Dean, yes!” Castiel’s head flew back and his body went taut as Dean began ruthlessly stroking them both. Dean was utterly entranced by the sight of his beautiful, powerful lover in the throes of passion. He already felt the edge of orgasm approach when suddenly Cas’ hand closed around his and stopped his movements.

Dean sent a questioning look at Cas and was enchanted by the flushed cheeks and the dark, half-lidded eyes that greeted him. Cas moved Dean’s hand from their cocks down his body and beneath his cock and Dean understood. 

Dean leisurely opened Cas up with languid passion, worshipping his lover’s body with fingers, lips and tongue. Finally, after Dean had taken his sweet time, Cas got impatient. He flipped their positions with ease, and it turned Dean on even more because he knew that Cas could have done that at any time but had chosen to yield control to Dean. Cas was poised above Dean for a glorious moment, his body in stark relief against the moonlight shining into the room through the window, before sinking down onto Dean’s cock as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Dean put his hands on Cas’ hips, steadying him and staring up at this amazing man with pure joy and desire. Cas was a vision of perfection, moving in slow, grinding circles above him.

It felt incredible, to be sheathed inside Cas. To share this with him. Dean didn’t need the sex to know that he wanted Cas. The sex was just a physical expression of their union. Dean was positive he’d feel just as close to Cas if all they ever did from now on was cuddling on the couch, Netflix without the chill, but to have Cas like this, so open and trusting, was special as well. 

Cas’ eyes were glowing brighter as he neared completion, riding Dean hard. Cas’ stamina was inhuman as well and it made Dean think about how Cas had fucked him that first time. He should have known then that this was no ordinary human, wings and horns aside. Speaking of which...

“F-fuu, hnnngh, your wings.” Dean slowly thrust up into Cas’ heat, ecstatic at the feeling of being as close as possible to his lover, but still greedy. He wanted all of Cas. “I want… ah, ah, ah, c-can I see them? Please, Cas, oh, oh, please…”

“Dean…! Oh, oh… yesssss! Any-ah-anything you wish!” Cas groaned, a sound of pure sex that had Dean’s erection twitch inside the molten heat of Cas’ body. His Cas, finally in Dean’s arms. Dean’s for the taking. Cas was giving himself, all of himself, just like Dean had given all of himself in the ritual.

“C-close your eyes!” Dean followed Castiel’s command without questions. He saw a flash of blue even through his closed eyelids and when he slowly blinked his eyes open again, the sight above him was enough to make his heart stutter.

Castiel was magnificent, still speared on Dean’s cock, his taut body moving and undulating like a living force of primal power. And behind him… two giant wings were spread wide, but they weren’t the wings Dean remembered. Gone was the leathery look, instead every perfect black feather was veined and lined with blue light. Those wondrous perfect wings were slowly fanning, moving in sync with Cas pleasuring himself on Dean’s cock. It was a sight to live for, because Dean could only hope to see it many times in the years to come.

“Oooooh, Cas… oh, oh, you’re so … b-beautiful! Fuck, I can’t…“ Dean surged up, grabbing Cas tightly and thrusting wildly into his body. Cas met him for every thrust, matched him perfectly both of them racing towards completion. Dean felt like he was poised on the crest of a surging wave. Almost, almost there…

“Yesssss… uuh, uh, Dean, I …” And then Cas came, in long spurts, shooting his cum all over Dean’s chest. His wings opened wide, light flaring brightly, shaking with ecstasy, every feather rustling. The feathers made a sound like a myriad of bells and it was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen or heard. He came with tears in his eyes, deep inside of Cas, keeping his eyes open as wide as he could, because he didn't want to miss a second of this sight.

In the aftermath, things went hazy for a bit. When Dean came to, the room was completely dark, but he was clean and warm and Castiel was wrapped around him like an octopus. For the first time, Dean felt Cas’ heartbeat. It was slower than a human’s, but strong and reassuring. It told him that Cas was alive and there to stay. Cas nuzzled softly against Dean’s jaw, drawing the covers over them both.

“Sleep, beloved. I will watch over you,” he said. Dean smiled and obeyed.

***

When Dean woke, it was still dark. He lay there, disoriented, suspended in floaty emptiness. For a split second, doubt spread through him as it had all those long nights before. What if it was all just a dream? Maybe Dean had passed out on that roof, maybe he was freezing to death, and all of it had just been a last hallucination from his dying brain?

Then he felt the solid line of a warm body pressed against his back, and light kisses trailing over his neck and down his shoulder. A large, warm hand fitted over the handprint on Dean’s bicep. This time it wasn’t pleasure that coursed through him. Instead all of his fears and doubts vanished. The calmness he’d felt before spread through Dean. A surety that things were alright now and would stay that way. Cas was there and Cas was staying. Cas kept his promise. They were together, now.

Dean smiled and turned in Cas’ arms. Cas’ eyes were still vaguely glowing like a cat’s, luminous in the dark. Alien, yet beautiful and familiar. Cas was a contradiction wrapped in an enigma, but foremost he was Dean’s.

Dean kissed Castiel once for what they'd been through, once for their present, and once for their future together. Once for light, once for darkness and once for all the places in between. Once for magic, once for a new start, and once for love.

Cas kissed Dean back each time. Every intent Dean imbued into their kisses, Cas returned it tenfold. It was a wordless canticle, a silent promise, stronger than any words could ever be.

When the kisses stopped, they looked at each other. Outside, the stars were still visible but the faintest light was greying up the horizon. Dean suddenly realized that there was something they really needed to do, right now.

With a soft smile, he tugged at Cas' hand, drawing him out of their bed. Cas’ eyes flicked to the window and he followed him without question, an answering smile on his face. 

Out of the bedroom and down the corridor they went, still hand in hand. Past the doors of Sam’s old room, where they could hear Sam snoring softly inside. Past the guest room that was Charlie’s now. Downstairs, the TV could be faintly heard and Dean knew Gabriel was in, late night marathoning some show or another on Netflix. The house was the same as always but it felt warmer now, inviting with the life and love of its occupants. Dean knew Cas had brought much more into his life than just himself. Everything was going to be different from now on.

Together they walked out onto the dark roof, both still naked and not giving a damn. Cas held Dean’s hand, and so Dean didn’t feel the cold even though the snow was crunching underneath their bare feet. The night sky was full of stars, magnificent in that way it only got on very cold, very clear nights, where the universe seemed much closer to earth than normal.

As soon as Cas was settled on the roof, he drew Dean down into the embrace of his arms. His wings manifested with a fluttering sound, and Dean smiled as the feathers quivered in the crisp cold air. Cas brought them around so they created a warm cocoon around them both. Dean had never felt so safe before in his whole life.

“Are you cold, beloved?” Cas asked softly.

“With you? Never.” Dean answered and meant every word.

They sat in comfortable silence and watched as the sky gradually lightened, from midnight black to dark indigo, then to cobalt and sapphire. Streaks of violet and burgundy indicated the faintest wisps of clouds. 

Dean felt Cas tense ever so slightly against him and he folded Cas’ hands between his own, knowing exactly what was going on inside of Cas’ mind. Cas’ eyes were glued to the eastern horizon as a breathless hush of anticipation settled across the world. 

The first streaks of red and gold heralded the arrival of the sun; it rose magnificent, illuminating the sky in a cornucopia of colors, setting the horizon on fire. Dean imagined that this might be what the very first sunrise had looked like. Maybe he’d ask Cas about it one day. 

Dean felt a damp wetness against his neck and knew Cas was overwhelmed by the sight, by his first sunrise in thousands of years. It was such an honor to be allowed to share it with him. Dean felt tears prickling in his eyes too, and wasn’t ashamed of them at all. He kissed the tips of Cas’ fingers, then he kissed every feather he could reach on his wings. He let Cas hold him and cry in silence and wonder for as long as he needed to, because time was on their side now. 

Finally, Cas’ arms tightened around Dean, and he turned his head to meet Cas’ waiting lips with his own. 

Dean silently promised Castiel with every kiss that they would share every sunrise from now on, and Cas returned the promise with fervour.

They sat like that until the sun had fully risen, watching the sky burst into more colors than a single human mind could ever imagine. 

“Merry christmas, Dean. ” 

“Merry christmas, Castiel.”

Dean and Cas walked back inside, hand in hand, where their family was already waiting for them. 

Together, forever. 

Promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inredibly hard to write and I'm still not happy with it. Adaille did their best to make it readable even though they had a lot of important RL stuff going on and I can't thank them enough. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting, folks. It was the many encouraging comments I got for A Promise at Sunrise that made me sit down and write this for the Winterland Challenge. I hope it's the ending you guys wanted for our two lovebirds.
> 
> If you feel like it, tell me in your comments what shenanigans Gabriel gets up to with his pose-as-a-statue project and what kind of cheesy romantic coupley things Dean and Cas end up doing during the rest of Christmas and New Years (you just know they'll be THAT couple that makes everyone else sick with how in love they are)
> 
> Happy New Year! May it be a happy one for all of you!

**Author's Note:**

> Did you see it coming? If so, when did you suspect that there was more to Cas (and Gabe) than being gargoyles, as the first part of this verse made it seem? I'm curious!


End file.
